Thank God that there are solid folk. . .
Who feel the things that all men feel
And think in well-worn grooves of thought
Whose honest spirits never reel
Before man's mystery, overwrought.
Yet not unfaithful nor unkind
With work-day virtues surely staid
Theirs is the sane and humble mind
And dull affections undismayed.
O happy people! I have seen
No verse yet written in your praise
And, truth to tell, the time has been
I would have scorned your easy ways.
But now thro' weariness and strife
I learn your worthiness indeed
The world is better for such life
As stout, suburban people lead.
Spirits in Bondage, "In Praise of Solid People," part II, poem XXIV, pp. 62-63
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